Chapter Four
Two days later on D-Day, Carla tried to suppress her excitement. Falcon sent a limo to bring her to the airport. The last 48 hours was a whirlwind that she couldn’t believe she was finally on her way. This felt like the beginning of a new adventure, an adventure where she had to keep her head screwed on straight and never forget that Falcon was in the picture.
Knowing they would be together sent a thrill down her spine. She couldn’t help it. Yet the fear was never far away. Admittedly, she hardly knew anything about him.
“He’s great in bed, that’s one. Look at where it got me,” she muttered deprecatingly.
Falcon was like a drug she craved but could never have. She had to keep things professional between them, she vowed.
The airport was up ahead and her heart beat faster. But the driver left the main road and turned into a dirt road where a series of squat buildings appeared.
“Where are we going?” Carla asked surprised.
“Mr. Manchester is waiting for us in his private hangar,” the driver replied.
Carla gulped. OF course, Falcon would never fly commercial. It was confirmed when the limo headed straight for a streamlined jet, its white wide body shimmering in the sunlight. A limo similar to hers was parked beside the plane. An uniformed driver opened the trunk and unloaded luggage. Her driver parked beside the limo, alit and did the same with her bags.
Falcon came into view just as the driver opened the limo door for her. Carla was glad she opted to wear a good pair of jeans and a stylish shirt with a slim belt. Her nude colored heels complemented the tote bag she held in her hand.
Falcon wore a white crisp shirt with dark chinos under a thin overcoat with upturned collar. His hair blew gently in the breeze while stylish aviators shielded his eyes from the sun. He looked like a movie star.
“Carla,” he greeted her.
“Hi,” she replied, “I wasn’t expecting this.” She motioned to the jet.
“It makes traveling easier,” he replied simply. “Shall we?”
Carla was ushered into an interior that took her breath away. Panoramic windows on both sides allowed abundant sunlight into the cabin. Carla guessed the seats were made of handcrafted leather. The color scheme was a beautiful shade of neutral with darker trims that resonated throughout the entire aircraft. The galley towards the back of the plane was hidden from view but Carla noticed gleaming appliances from the partially opened doorway.
Falcon led her to a seat that had more leg room than her apartment. “I’ll discuss the flight plan with the pilot then we can be on our way to Paris, he informed her. “The whole trip should take no longer than 7 hours,” he added.
7 hours cooped inside the limited space of a plane with Falcon was going to challenge her equilibrium, Carla mused.
A flight stewardess arrived carrying a tray with a glass of champagne.
“Thank you,” Carla smiled. She needed the bubbly desperately. “Overwhelmed” was an understatement. If she had any doubts about Falcon’s financial worth, all doubts had been erased. Everything about him, the jet, the limo, the property in France, made her feel more out of his league.
He emerged from the cockpit and headed straight to where she sat. Carla tensed when he came close and groped the back of her seat.
“We’re about to take off,” he said, and clicked her seatbelt into place.
He took the seat in front of her and strapped himself in. The same flight attendant reappeared with another glass of champagne which he refused.
Are we gonna stare at each other the whole flight?
Thankfully, he retrieved a laptop from his briefcase and started to work.
A silent flight, then. Fine!
Carla didn’t know which she preferred. She just had to follow his lead. This was his show, not hers. Yet she felt piqued because he intended to ignore her the whole flight. She searched her tote for a book to read and was glad she packed “The Vintage Home: A Guide to Successful Renovation” inside the bag. She grabbed the copy earlier hoping to learn something new for the task ahead.
Carla felt the powerful thrum of the engine as the Gulfstream taxied the runway. She experienced a sudden weightlessness and knew they were off the ground. She stole glances at her travelling companion whose attention was focused on the screen of his Mac. His brows were furrowed at whatever was on the screen.
Suddenly he looked up and their eyes met. Carla flushed, looked down, and pretended reading as she casually turned a page.
“Vintage houses, huh?” Falcon commented.
“I just wish I had an idea what I would be dealing with in the property.” She replied.
“Here let me show you,” Falcon replied rising. He took the seat beside her and positioned the mac towards her. On the screen was a photo of a sprawling half-timbered house. She immediately recognized the architectural equilibrium in the harmony of the timber structure called The Mann. Composed of vertical slanting beams, two Ks opposing one another dotted the façade.
“Do you recognize the symbolic meaning of those Ks?” She asked him.
Falcon raised a brow and shook his head.
“It is supposed to evoke the silhouette of a man because it is a sign of virility and physical force.” Carla informed him.
Just like you. Maybe that was the reason he got attracted to the property.
“Perfect. It would be my personal bachelor pad then.”
Carla rolled her eyes. “You may decide to get married someday. So, lets rethink the idea of a bachelor pad, shall we?”
“Jesus,” Falcon retorted, “spare me the added stress of complicated women.”
Was he referring to Lindsay?
“I have an antidote to that. You can always add a Mann depicting the head of a rooster with its eye. I believe the rooster is supposedly the animal of the sun and repel witches spell.”
Falcon threw his head back and laughed. Carla liked the sound. It broke the wall of formality between them.
“Seriously Falcon, we need skilled carpenters who are masters in their craft. She enlarged the picture on the screen. “See those lines? I think those are cracks in the timber. This whole portion,” pointing to a beam, “need to be replaced and back into its carcass form. I think this is traditional carpentry technique that do not make use of screws or nails and instead use wooden plugs to reinforce the whole structure.”
She moved on to the next photo, peered intently then said, “Just as I suspected. The foundations, cellar, and ground floor are the places that will require a mason. But I need to check the current state of the mortar before deciding on a new application. That itself will pose a challenge and require a master who knows the proper mixture of mud and straw. God, this would be so much easier if we could use rapid setting mortar. But it just wouldn’t look the same. And see this one…”
Carla was in her element. This was something she trained for. It made her feel like she was in control.
She looked up from the screen and saw him staring at her intently. Her words stopped short as the breath caught in her throat. There was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite fathom. It was searching, probing. It made her wary.
She tried to look away but he reached out and touched her face and made her look at him.
“Carla,” he said, “I wish you would talk to me about what happened between us. Please let me know how you really feel.”
Carla felt her heart beat wildly. Warning bells rang in her ear.
“The-there’s really nothing to talk about,” Carla stammered. “We were both drunk. I take responsibility for my actions. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did. Don’t feel guilty. It was my fault just as it was yours too.”
“You regret what happened between us?” He asked.
NO! it was an immediate denial but a silent scream.
It was the best experience of her life. But…he always treated her casually. There was never a sign of his attraction because there was none. Just as she was certain she didn’t stand a chance if the circumstances were different. It happened because they were both drunk. Unfortunately, in her futile desire to give in to the longing she harbored for him, for so long, she was now pregnant with his baby.
Without a doubt, if she revealed that to him, he would disappear and never see her again. Carla was even more terrified at the thought Falcon would think she was a gold digger, that it was a deliberate act on her part because of his wealth. He was a man of the world and in his world, women knew how to protect themselves.
It was best that he never found out.
“Yes, I regret it. It was a one-night stand. That’s all there is to it,” Carla replied firmly.
Falcon stiffly drew away. His eyes were like glaciers with no glimmer of emotion. “I think I need that rooster Mann you talked about. I never realized how much of a witch-bitch you are,” he said. The hurt in his voice was plain to hear. Carla assumed he was hurt because one-night-stands were bragging rights for men. She took that right away by saying she regretted it. He grabbed his laptop and walked to the back of the plane.
Carla wanted to run after him and say that she lied. She wanted to confess that she was in love with him, but desperately afraid he would never feel the same way. She wanted to confess that she felt out of her league with someone like him and wished she was more like Lindsay. But she wasn’t like Lindsay who would never accidentally get herself pregnant.
There was a lot of things she wanted to confess to him. But in the end, she allowed her pride and fear to win. During the 7-hour flight from New York to Paris, France, she stayed where she sat while Falcon never left his seat at the back of the plane.